


It's What We Deserve

by LittleD0ve



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-04 21:33:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18821161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleD0ve/pseuds/LittleD0ve
Summary: Sansa is summoned to King's Landing to stand trial for her role in Varys' treason with her once husband.





	1. Sansa I

SANSA

                “If I don’t go, she’ll come here and kill everyone in Winterfell.”

                Brienne had been trying to convince her to stay and wait out the storm but Sansa knew she had to go to King’s Landing. The raven had arrived the night before and she’d spent the morning preparing for her departure. She was leaving Lord Royce in charge of the rebuilding efforts and had given Maester Wolkan specific and detailed instructions in regards to the running of the North in her absence.

                “My Lady, I can’t allow you to go. You know that she’ll kill you.” Brienne insisted.

                “The dragon queen isn’t as clever as she thinks she is. I don’t intend to die in the south.” She spoke with more confidence than she actually felt. The truth was that she was afraid. She knew what the dragon could do. She’d seen the Unsullied and the Dothraki. _Jon wouldn’t let her kill me, would he?_ She wasn’t sure anymore. She sighed and looked at the documents on her desk, and her eyes landed on a sealed letter from the Citadel. She knew what it contained, but she didn’t know what information she would find inside. It had been sitting on her desk for weeks and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to open it.

                “If you insist on going, Podrick and I will come with you.”

                Sansa smiled sadly. Word had reached them of Cersei and Jaime’s deaths and she felt for her friend despite her hatred for him and his sister. She nodded almost imperceptibly and picked up the unopened envelope. Noticing it, Brienne asked: “I’ve noticed that sitting on your desk for some time, lady Sansa. Why haven’t you opened it?”

                Sansa sat back on her chair, fingering the seal and the edges of the letter. “Because I’m not sure I want to know what it says.” Brienne said nothing but cocked and eyebrow questioningly in response. Taking a deep breath, Sansa looked up at the last true friend she had in Winterfell.

                “When the army of the dead was attacking, Lord Tyrion and I – ” she paused, not really sure what to call what passed between them in the crypts. “We discussed our marriage when we were in the crypts.” She licked her lips and toyed with the package. “We thought we were going to die and I suppose we were both feeling bolder than usual, Tyrion had been drinking.” She said the last part with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “He said something about how maybe we should have stayed married.” Her voice grew softer, quieter, as she said it. Brienne listened intently.

                “Under different circumstances, I would have just told him that the marriage was annulled, that it was never real… But instead I told him that he was the best of them – the men I’d been linked to – and that the only reason it wouldn’t work between us was his loyalty to the dragon queen. We sat together without saying anything while the fighting happened above. I kept playing that conversation over and over in my head. Did he mean it? Did he really think that we should have stayed married?” Her voice began to rise as she spoke and she became breathless. She looked up at Brienne, then. “Did I mean it? Would I accept him as my husband if Daenerys wasn’t in the way?”

                She shook her head and focused again on the envelope in her hands. Finally, her voice dropping down to a terrified whisper, she continued. “Then the dead rose in the crypts. We hid together behind my father’s statue…” She met Brienne’s eyes again. “We held hands and we spoke without words. I saw the answer to my question in his eyes. I know how he feels about me. I don’t know if its love, but I knew in that moment that he meant what he had said.” She placed the envelope back on her desk and started to put her gloves on, suddenly the stoic lady again.

                “I wrote to the citadel the next morning, asking them to provide me with all documents pertaining to the marriage of Sansa Stark and Tyrion Lannister, including any request for an annulment, its approval or denial, and any documented record of my marriage to Ramsay. It arrived the day after Tyrion left with Jon and Daenerys and I haven’t been able to open it.”

                She looked up at Brienne, who looked at her with understanding.  “You’re afraid that it will say that your marriage was annulled or invalidated by your second marriage.” Tears were welling in Sansa’s eyes as she nodded, looking down at the ground. “Sansa…” She looked up at her friend. “No matter what that letter says, you can still be with Tyrion.” She said gently.

                Sansa knew Brienne was right. She knew in her heart that Tyrion would marry her again, if she asked him. “My people would more likely to accept the fact that I’m forcibly in this marriage and we can convince them, in time, that he’s a good man. But if I chose him…”

                “You are their Lady and you have not led them astray yet. If I may be so bold, you’re making excuses. The content of that letter is not important. Not really.”

                She knew Brienne was right. “We better go. I’m to stand trial and Tyrion is in danger – it wasn’t mentioned in the scroll she received, but she has to know how Varys got the information about Jon. I’m not going to let him die for information that I gave him.”

                The scroll from the queen sat open on her desk and she read it one more time before departing.

_Sansa Stark, you are summoned to the Capitol to stand trial for your crimes of treason against the crown. Lord Varys has already been executed thanks to information he shared with others thanks to you. If you are not in King’s Landing within the month, Winterfell with fall for the last time._

_Daenerys, queen of the seven kingdoms_


	2. TYRION I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion has to share his cell.

TYRION

                The sound of the tent flap opening woke him from his light slumber. Expecting his evening meal, he didn’t turn right away, but instead sat up in the bed and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. He’d been given a large enough tent, with a bed and brazier, no doubt Jon’s attempt to make his final days more comfortable. He doubted his queen would have offered a prisoner such nice accommodations from her own volition.

                Jon had visited him twice in the month he’d been arrested. He was rarely allowed to leave the tent and it was under heavy guard. The first time he came to see him he told him that he’d convinced Daenerys to hold off of killing him for treason and the second time was to tell him that the trial would be in roughly one month. He’d looked ill and would say no more, leaving Tyrion to wonder why she would wait that long. She’d executed Varys within hours of discovering his treason. Realization had dawned on him a few hours later when his mind had started to wander to Sansa, as it often did.

                _She’s going to hold a trial for both of us – together._

                His heart was already broken after discovering the unused dingy and caved in tunnel which meant that his brother and only true friend was gone forever. Now he’d have to stand trial with his once-wife and watch as she suffered the same fate. _Please, let her kill me first._

                Sensing that whoever entered the tent was still there, he looked up towards the flap. He wasn’t really surprised to see Sansa Stark sanding before him, although she did look mildly stunned at her current accommodations as she looked around the tent. Her eyes finally rested on his face and a sad smile played on her lips.

                “Even as a prisoner you have to maintain your _Lannister-y_ lifestyle. I’m impressed.” She said as she removed her gloves and set them on the table. “Unfortunately you’re being forced to share them with a traitor until our trial tomorrow.”

                He smirked and got up from the bed, walking over to the table where she stood and poured them each a cup of wine. “If I was ‘maintaining my _Lannister-y_ lifestyle’ I’d have better wine than this.” He said, handing her a cup and sitting on one of the two chairs.

                She took the proffered cup and placed it on the table before moving the second chair over so that she was seated next to him, knees nearly touching. She took his cup and placed it on the table next to hers; taking his hands in hers once they were empty. “I’m so sorry, Tyrion. All of this is my fault. If I’d just kept Jon’s secret to myself –”

“—then the realm would still be without a better option. I’m sorry Sansa. I should have listened to you.”

“I suppose we’ve both made mistakes over the past few years.” She said, releasing his hands and taking a sip from her cup. “The worse I made was leaving you here after Joffrey was killed.”

“You know they would have killed us both if you had stayed.”

“Maybe.” she conceded. “I suppose we’ll never know.”

                They sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, listening to the cackling fire and sipping their wine. Finally, a laugh escaped his throat. “We’re getting rather good at this.” He said when she eyed him questioningly. “Facing death together and pretending like neither one of us has anything to say to the other.”

                She smiled at him. “You’re right. And I don’t think we’ll have more time than we’re getting tonight.”

                Neither spoke. Both unsure how to begin unloading years of betrayal, hurt, and unanswered questions. A million thoughts sprang to his mind. Should he just come out and say it all? Should he ask her if the crypts meant anything to her? How much time did they have?

                It was Sansa who finally broke the silence. “I wrote to the citadel the morning we won the Great War.” She must have seen the confused look on his face because she continued. “I wanted to know if our marriage was still valid – if there had truly been an annulment or if my wedding to Ramsay had invalidated it…”

                Tyrion cocked an eyebrow – both in surprise and in question. “And?” His voice was scarcely higher than a whisper.

                “I’d hoped that the answer would arrive before you left – but it came the day after like some cruel joke. I’d hoped…” she cleared her throat from the unshed tears. “I thought, after what happened in the crypts, if our marriage was still legally binding, that you would have stayed behind. I thought if I had that piece of paper that said I was still your wife that you would have stayed with me in Winterfell.”

                “And why would you want that?”

                “I was under the impression that we weren’t skirting around anything tonight. Why do you think I wanted you to stay? Look what happened here! You were with me in those crypts when we talked about our marriage, when we hid together behind my father’s tomb. Don’t pretend that you think I felt nothing.”

                He took her hand in his. “I’m sorry. You’re right – as usual” tears were welling in his eyes now. He cleared his throat and looked into her Tully-blue eyes. “What did the letter say?”

                Her cheeks flushed. “I never opened it. It’s still on my desk in Winterfell.”

                “Why?”

                “I couldn’t… If something happened to you and I could have made you stay… Stopped it somehow…” Tears started falling in earnest and Tyrion pulled her into his arms.

                “Shh. It’s alright. We can find out together when we get out of this.”

                She pulled away. “Bold of you to assume that we’ll survive this.” She said, smiling teasingly.

                He wiped away an errant tear from her cheek, leaving his hand there to cup her face. “Hope has gotten me this far. Why shouldn’t I be hopeful now?”

                A look of determination crossed Sansa’s features and for a moment Tyrion thought she would pull away. Instead, she knelt before him and took his hands in hers. “I don’t care what the citadel says in that letter. If we’re going to die tomorrow I want nothing left unsaid between us. Regardless of the Maesters say, I know what I want and what I need. I want to be married. I want to be married _to you._ I don’t care how, if it’s already the case or if we have to get married again, I don’t care. _I_ choose _you,_ Tyrion, if you’ll have me. This time, it’s not for our families or kingdoms or lands. I just want _you._

                Before he could form a coherent thought, her arms were around his neck and she was quietly sobbing. “I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry for all the time I’ve wasted, all the time we’ve lost.”

                He gently pushed her away from him and stood up, their faces at the same level and mere inches apart. “If I’ll have you?” he repeated, incredulous, a sobbing laugh escaping his throat once more. “Sansa, since we said our vows in the sept it’s only been you. You’re all I want. You’re all I’ve wanted for a very long time.”

                They were both crying, foreheads touching and Sansa let a laugh of her own escape. “We must look ridiculous. Why are we crying?”

                He couldn’t help but laugh too. “I don’t know”. He cupped her cheek again and slowly inched his face closer to hers. “Can I kiss you?” She laughed and put both hands on either side of his neck, pulling him gently towards her. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” They closed the gap between them slowly; taking the time to savour the moment.

                The kiss was soft and gentle. There was still so much they hadn’t said, but in that moment, they understood each other. She chose him and he’d been chosen. In that moment they could feel their wounds healing.

                He pulled away almost regretfully, keeping his hand on her face. “You look exhausted, why don’t you lie down?”

                “We might die tomorrow. I’m not wasting our final hours sleeping.” She looked over to the bed. “Would you hold me?” She stood and removed her cloak and dress, climbing under the furs in her shift. Still clothed in his shirt and breeches, he joined her beneath the blankets. She found a comfortable spot in his arms and rested her head on his chest. They talked for hours about their time together in King’s Landing, about their travels and adventures, their pain and their victories.

                Just before dawn, as sleep threatened to take them, Sansa looked up at Tyrion. “I saw Arya just before they took me prisoner. She met me on the King’s road. She seems to think we’ll make it.”

                Tyrion kissed her forehead and held her close to him. “I hope she’s right.”


	3. SANSA II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final hours before the trial

SANSA

                They must have dozed off for a couple of hours while they were holding each other. Sansa woke to Tyrion’s arms wrapped around her, still holding on tightly despite his sleeping state. She tried to stay still to keep the spell from breaking, slowly turning her face upwards to look at him. She smiled when she saw his mouth hanging open slightly; he looked more peaceful than she’d ever seen him. _I wish I’d paid more attention five years ago._ She’d been smiling up at him until the thought crossed her mind. _I should have stayed with him… In another life… Under different circumstances._ She let her head rest on his chest again and her mind wandered into fantasy. _We could have three, maybe four, children by now. We could happily be living at Casterly Rock. I would have learned to love him, we would have built it brick by brick like mother and father had._ She knew that wasn’t true, though. She knew the girl she was back then would have resisted until he’d finally broken his vows and gone to visit brothels again. She’d have been unkind and unwilling and both would have ended up miserable in their old age with no children to carry on either of their names. Separation had brought them together, in a sense. They may die together today, but at least their hearts were one.

                Tyrion stirred beneath her, causing her to snap out of her reverie. She looked up at him again, returning the smile he gave her. “I wish I could say _Good morning_ …” She said.

                Suddenly remembering their predicament, his smile faded. “At least we had last night.” He said finally, holding her closer to him and placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

                She nuzzled closer and held him tightly around his waist. “I wish we could stay here in this moment forever.”

                “It isn’t over yet.” He said with a strained voice, clearly unsure of her reaction.

                Her head snapped back up at him. “Aren’t there soldiers stationed outside the tent?” she asked, more nervous than appalled.

                He reached down and moved a strand of her hair from her face. “Probably…”

                Determined and suddenly uncaring about who might see them, she edged her way up higher on the mattress so her head was level with his. She placed a hand on his cheek and leaned him to kiss him. It started much the same as the night before, sweet and innocent. But Sansa wasn’t sure if she’d survive the day so, guards be damned, she deepened the kiss and pressed her body closer to his. He reacted almost immediately, his hand cupping her face and his body meeting hers with fervor.

                They kissed for what seemed like hours, yet it must have been mere seconds later when Tyrion pulled away. “I can’t… not like this.”

                Sansa smiled sadly and placed her hand on his cheek. “I know.” She kissed him once more and they wrapped their bodies around each other, holding on tightly to their last shred of hope. If they died today, at least they knew how they felt about each other… _But does he?_

                “Tyrion?”

                “Mmm?” She could tell that he was deep in his own thoughts as he combed through her hair with his fingers.

                She raised herself on her elbows and looked him square in the face. She studied his features. His scar had faded into a jagged, white line; dragging from his cheek to his opposite brow. His eyes were a beautiful shade of ocean green and blue. _How did I miss how absolutely handsome he was before?_ She allowed her hand to trace his jaw line and brush the hair from his forehead. He looked at her with nothing short of adoration as she did so.

                Finally she let her hand rest on his, resting across his chest. The words stuck in her mouth and when they came out her voice was scarcely louder than a whisper. “I love you.” Her voice, though quiet, was loud with emotion and heavy with the tears that threatened to escape once more. She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

                His mouth twitched and he moved his hand to rest over hers, squeezing hard. “I will never let you go again, Sansa Stark.” He pulled her down gently back on to his chest, his fingers finding their way into her hair again. After a few moments of silence, he finally whispered “I love you, too” into her hair.

                They stayed that way for a long time, until finally a guard came in and told them that their trial would be happening within the hour. They dressed quietly and sat at the table together, hands clasped tightly together as they waited for their escort.

                When the Unsullied guard arrived a short while later, they walked together hand in hand to the dragon pit. She knew that this demonstration of unity would anger the queen but Sansa didn’t care. They’d spent so much time apart already, she wasn’t going to waste their final hours separated.


End file.
